Fleabag
by headtrip parade
Summary: Just a very late, very short response to the Special Place challenge.


**This is my extremely short (and overdue!) response to the Special Place challenge. I apologize for the lateness, but in a dry hiatus where we are all going crazy I figure the more fic, the better. :)**

**Thank you to Shiny Jewel for the challenge template and for the encouragement and feedback. Enjoy!**

* * *

Rayna pulled the vehicle into the parking lot, glancing quickly at passenger seat to ensure her husband had not retracted his vow to not take his blindfold off. She grinned at his resilience, though his clenched jaw was enough to give away his annoyance.

"Seriously, Rayna?" He asked, completely perplexed by her spontaneous desire to venture to Knoxville for the weekend.

When she had told him she wanted the two of them to get away, he immediately assumed they'd be traveling to the lake house. It was completely secluded, yet close enough to home in case they needed to return for an emergency. He couldn't speak for her, but their first trip away from their infant son was wreaking havoc on him.

"Just one more minute, babe." She threw the car into park and leaned over, kissing him hastily on the cheek as she opened the door to her Escalade. "And do _not_ peek!"

* * *

"Okay, and step…"

Rayna helped a blindfolded Deacon over the slight threshold, the reminiscence of the first time he took her to the lake house not lost on her. She knew this place might smell a bit more like stale cigarettes, wet dog, and mold than their retreat, but she still grinned at the memory; so fresh it was as if he took her there for the first time yesterday.

Though she used the term loosely, their "cabin" was absolutely a special place to the both of them. Their family had all but been created within those four wooden walls, but there was something about _this_ particular place that had her all kinds of excited.

"Rayna, it smells like puke."

She laughed, untying the blindfold in one swift pull.

Deacon opened his eyes and adjusted them to the light, the curious grin on his face slowly fading into full on confusion.

"Where the hell are we?" He asked, stuffing his hands deep into his pockets as if to protect them from the grime.

"You don't remember?"

He shook his head slowly, chuckling nervously.

"Not at all."

Rayna smirked and threw her arm across his shoulders, gently running her hand up and down his arm.

"This is the room we stayed in the very first time we came to Knoxville. Remember? It was our first show out of Nashville." She surveyed the room in front of her, certain the bedspread had not been changed in those 25 years. She even quietly began to wonder if the sheets had ever been changed. "You and I slept there, Kyle slept there, and Bobby was brave enough to make a place on the floor."

Deacon grabbed her hand and pulled her in closer, allowing himself to laugh a bit.

"I remember that now. We were trying to tell him the roaches would make nests in his ears but he damn sure wasn't gonna share a bed with Kyle."

Rayna laughed.

"Nope, he wasn't."

Deacon kissed her on the cheek and wrapped his arms around her.

"So why are we here, darlin'?"

Rayna grinned up at him, bringing her lips softly to his.

"I just wanted to stand here with you. Everything's so different now. _We're_ different. We're better. We have our music, our kids… I just wanted to taste how it all started."

Deacon said nothing, only pressed his lips to hers and ran his fingers wildly through her hair. She let her hands slide softly beneath his shirt and up his back, stopping only when he broke his face from hers.

He smiled into her hair, placing a kiss sweetly atop her head. He glanced around the room, taking in the beat down furniture, tube TV, stained carpet, and peeling wallpaper. His eyes widened slightly when he noticed a green mold creeping up the side of the vanity.

He shuddered.

Deacon had never been one for opulence in favor of being frugal, but even this place was a bit much for him.

"Ray?"

"Hmm?" She asked, laying her head on his chest.

"We're not actually staying here tonight, are we?"

She giggled and smiled up at him, relishing every second of the adorable fear and discomfort spreading across his face.

"Hell no. We've got the cottage at Blackberry."

With that, he didn't say another word; only grabbed her hand and hastily led her out of the dimly lit cesspool and to the car. Their private cottage was waiting.


End file.
